


Our War

by dazaionice



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubcon Kissing, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, I'm so sorry for this, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Iwaizumi Hajime, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Character Death, Smut, heavy emotional angst, kenma suffers a lot, kenma sweetie i'm so sorry it's nothing personal, sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-08 06:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazaionice/pseuds/dazaionice
Summary: Kuroo wanted to meet the world. He wanted to know its deep and dark corners, how people lived and even if they managed to thrive out of terrible conditions.Since their early days both him and Kenma had been taught the good things about life. Their parents and grandparents had taught them how beautiful life can be and how it must be treasured because it was a precious fleeting thing.But Kuroo wanted more than that. He wanted - needed - the dark parts.So, he joined the army.





	1. Stage 1

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned that the next stage will be worse and sadder than this one, so read at your own risk. This stage contains emotional rollercoaster and smut, have fun!!
> 
> Work for the amazing and powerful [lilserket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilserket/pseuds/lilserket) (you guys should check their fics btw!!! They have tons and the AUs are so good).
> 
> God bless my beta [shoutbot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoutbot) for putting up with my bs because honestly, she's very strong for handling me.

Him and Kenma were tied together since childhood. They played volleyball in middle and high school, falling in love with the sport itself until that amount of love wasn't enough. So they fell for each other. 

 

They never voiced their feelings, not really. But even so, they knew what they felt for each other ran deeper than plain friendship. The lingering touches, the warm hand holding when no one was looking, the longer and drilling stares Kenma gave Kuroo, how Kuroo's eyes travelled to Kenma's lips any time they were a feather away from  _ too close _ . 

 

Falling into rhythm with each other's sync was as good as playing volleyball. 

 

They graduated from school. Being descendants from japanese immigrants living in North America, both of them had a warm and safe upbringing provided by both of their families. Everything was well as it was. 

  
  
  


Life was simple for them. 

 

And suddenly, it was not. 

  
  
  


Kuroo wanted to meet the world. He wanted to know its deep and dark corners, how people lived and even if they managed to thrive out of terrible conditions.    
  
Since their early days both him and Kenma had been taught the good things about life. Their parents and grandparents had taught them how beautiful life can be and how it must be treasured because it was a precious fleeting thing.   
  
But Kuroo wanted more than that. He wanted - needed - the dark parts.   
  
So, he joined the army.

  
  
  


Kenma felt tired. He had been exercising and studying the entire week but when Kuroo texted him saying they “needed to talk”, Kenma couldn't find it in himself to deny it. 

 

All he expected was for Kuroo to sit on the couch with him while they watched movies and played games, speaking about the college they went together, about their families, about the weather. He expected anything but to hear the words leaving Kuroo's mouth, burning and searing on his skin like melted iron. 

 

“I signed up for the army.”

 

Joining the army was dangerous decision these days. Everyone knew it and those who paid no heed to it were either ignorant or dumb. The tension between US against Ukraine and Belarus was big enough for a war to erupt. It was clearly a matter of time, a standoff that politics couldn't solve at all.

 

So, Kenma couldn't find it in himself to believe Kuroo as soon as the words left his mouth. He would have laughed at him even, only if it wasn't for how dead serious Kuroo looked. Kuroo wouldn't be that stupid, would he?

 

Kenma studied the man in front of him, reading everything he could about his body language. The way his shoulders seemed tense, arms crossed in front of his chest as if seeking for grounding, feet well planted on the floor. Every line from Kuroo's body screamed  _ tense, _ so Kenma could not feign ignorance. 

 

_ So he plans on leaving me, huh? _ Kenma withered. 

 

Kenma continued to stare at Kuroo, gears inside his head moving and weighing possibilities, watching how Kuroo reacted and how his eyes bore into Kenma. He wasn't lying and he wasn't playing him, not this time at least. 

 

The sense of betrayal was a stone sinking on his stomach.

 

“Is that your plan, then?” He could only but ask. How does one even reacts to your best friend - your family, the one you love -, leaving you?

 

Kenma partially wished that the concept of Kuroo leaving was the only problem. But he couldn't ignore and pretend that a war wasn't nearly starting and things would get ugly on a near future. He wished that his only problem was Kuroo leaving him because like this, he wouldn't have to worry about Kuroo's life. 

 

“Please don’t treat me like this, kitten.” Kuroo runned a hand through his hair, a battle of distress and fondness painting his expressions and softening his eyes. 

 

Kenma felt so bitterly angry he could have laughed. “Like what? It’s not like you’re being forced into it. You’re going away on your own volition at the worst timing possible.”

 

Tears felt like pins on Kenma’s eyes and his heartache felt like a stake breaking past the muscles of his heart. He turned around, from Kuroo and from everything he meant, to stare at the wall instead.

 

Silence was a heavy little monster, burning away the oxygen and eating both of their will to fight back.

 

Kuroo wished for Kenma to leave at the same time he urged him to stay. He needed Kenma close on a cellular level, perhaps he always did. His atoms were craving for the solid energy that Kenma was in order to keep moving and integral.

 

Now he realized that he couldn’t bare the idea of Kenma hating him the same way he couldn’t stand hurting him either.

 

But Kuroo would not fall back on his decision either because he needed that for himself. He couldn't bare being caged in protection anymore, protected and shielded while all he wanted was to explore the darker or different aspects of life. Half of his chances of fixing everything up were wiped away because of Kuroo's childish notion. 

 

Kenma spoke again, his voice fluid and beautiful as the sea even though the words he spoke weren’t as kind.

 

"Why are you brave enough to join the army when you couldn't even tell me what you actually feel about us? About me?"

 

Shot dead and buried, Kuroo stilled. His rushing mind froze, gears shattering in a chain reaction caused by Kenma.

 

Kenma never spoke about it this openly. He had never declared how he felt for the other or proclaimed to know what Kuroo swore he kept hidden inside himself. It was a matter they did not touch, out of fear or habit, words and feelings too delicate to be handled brusquely. Now, that exit was the only one left for them as Kuroo heaved, air leaving his body and deflating him.

 

When Kenma turned to face Kuroo, he was definitely  _ smaller.  _ He had recoiled, waiting for any weapon the blonde could toss at him even if his eyes were solid foundations. Kuroo studied him in return, seeing the hurt and frustration tense his muscles, fingers gripping his own arms too tightly to be considerate something good. 

 

"You're not brave, Tetsurou Kuroo. What you're doing is all kinds of idiotic and on top of all, you're leaving me for it."

 

The tears were back, pricking Kenma’s eyes and constricting his throat and God help him if he ever spilled those out of frustration.

 

Kenma was angry. All at once, he realized that Kuroo didn’t loved him as much as he thought. The boy who he grew to care and love never loved him as much as he considered, as much as he needed. Kuroo didn’t even wish to stay with him, instead choosing to fall headfirst into an upcoming war in the name of defiance.

 

Kenma hugged himself harder while his nails dig into the soft flesh there, seeking refugee in a slow burning pain just as much as a getaway and as a safety measure from his own tears. He wanted to break the skin and bleed himself out just to spill out his affection for Kuroo.

 

He could do nothing but hurt, over and over again on the expanse of silent minutes, just to try and see how much he could physically remove his agony and abandon. Anxiety raised on Kenma's throat, suffocating and closing his mind to anything on the outside while the loathing bad thoughts destroyed everything like grenades. 

 

How could he ever live on if Kuroo left him?

 

In an instant, Kuroo covered the way till Kenma and enveloped him in a hug. The brunette was warm and solid, the smell of his perfume a revolting reminder of what Kenma knew as ‘home’.

 

Kenma fell to pieces.

 

He cried, sobs going past his lips unpermitted while he reached for Kuroo’s shirt with fisted hands. It wasn’t fair.

 

Kuroo had no right to offer him this warmth and comfort while he was so ready to turn his back on him. He had no right to be this solid when he had no plans of turning into smoke. 

 

He had no right to smell like home when he didn’t had intentions of being it.

 

The sense of betrayal burned both ways and Kuroo knew he was hurting Kenma. He never wanted to hurt the younger boy. He simply urged for him to understand. He had to seek a different life because he was done being trapped inside a silk cage. 

 

The older needed the raw, harsh and brute parts in order to find the diamond in the midst of it all.

 

He kept Kenma close to his chest, threading a hand on his hair and caressing his scalp while the other arm hugged Kenma's small waist as hard as he could. Soothing sounds were what came next, a weak attempt to soothe the iron burn from Kenma’s sobs.

 

Kenma wanted to scream at the man hugging him and to be kissed by him all the same. This was unfair, truly unfair how his most loved didn’t love him back as Kenma thought he did.

 

Be it in the name of shame, anger or throbbing love, Kenma pushed Kuroo away with as much strength as he could muster. Taking a step back and hitting the wall, he stood alone and exposed, tears falling down his face and heart agonizing inside his chest. He couldn’t say anything and neither could Kuroo after he took some steps back.

 

The lingering warmth from Kenma’s body cradled in his chest already started to fade.

 

“You can’t do this to me,” Kenma screamed again between sobs, deep and sharp voice breaking the veil of silence between them. 

 

Kuroo couldn’t handle it. He simply couldn’t handle the situation where Kenma was this hurt and he had to keep a distance, even more so when he was the one hurting him. So, again he took step after step towards the blonde. But instead of standing still like last time, Kenma falsely backed away until he got a reminder that he was already with his back against the wall.

 

Kuroo took advantage of the dead end and pressed his body against Kenma, muscles and flesh meeting Kenma’s shaking figure. 

 

One second Kenma was ready to scream again at Kuroo, push him away just like the last time.

 

The other, his wrists were pinned on the wall on top of him by a big and steady hand.

 

He dared to look up at Kuroo, ready to fire him with every firepower he could until he saw how the older’s eyes were. Pupils blown wide, bleeding and burning with many different things. Greed, hurt pride, telltale of anger and something dangerously tipping the edge of  _ want. _

 

Kenma stilled, waiting like the prey he had turned, his own eyes wide and drenched with still falling tears.

 

Kuroo kissed him.

 

It was simply a raw and brute mash of lips, wet with Kenma’s salty tears and heavy with negative emotions that had no deal of being in the middle of a kiss. Too hard to be considered loving, the kiss bordered aggressive.

 

Quite some first kiss.

 

Kenma fought back, lips harsh underneath Kuroo’s own while he tried to free his wrists. Kuroo always were stronger than him.

 

When they parted, Kenma was still crying but he pressed his face against Kuroo’s chest. Nuzzling, trying to soothe the pain he felt from betrayal and fighting his own mind in order to think straight, his entire body relaxed. He could hear and feel Kuroo’s heartbeat like this, beating fast and fleeting like a hummingbird’s wings.

 

Releasing his hold from Kenma’s thin wrists, Kuroo gaped at himself.  _ What did I just do? _

 

The aftermath of a natural disaster that would eventually happen.

 

Kuroo managed to organize himself enough to thread a hand on Kenma’s smooth hair, but  _ now what?  _

 

“Do it again,” Kenma spoke, voice muffled by Kuroo’s chest but still as clear as it could be.

 

Kenma raised his head, coming out of the protection he had found on Kuroo’s expanse of skin and muscles covering his heart. His yellow eyes zeroed in on Kuroo, studying his face before locking on Kuroo’s own eyes.

 

“Do it again.” He repeated, his own heart beating wildly at the request he was making.

 

Kuroo could do nothing but obey, helplessly and weak for any request Kenma gave him.

 

It was softer this time. A simple touch of lips on lips, still tasting the sweet-salt from Kenma’s tears while Kuroo’s hand left his hair in order to cradle his face. Kenma’s only response was to fist Kuroo’s shirt again.

 

It shouldn’t have been this intense, emotions burning between the two of them and searing feelings from something so simple as the physical meeting of lips.

 

It should have been something simple and gentle as sunlight but in reality, it was scalding.

 

Kenma sucked in a breath, stretching his entire body in order to press harder against Kuroo as a demand for more. More touch, more heat, more feeling.

 

And Kuroo backed away.

 

“Again.”

 

Lips somewhat numb reached for the other’s fuller ones, and Kenma was kissed for a third time. Not as gentle as before but not as nearly aggressive as the first one.

 

“Again.” He ordered when Kuroo made the slightest mention to fall back.

 

They kissed, soft and gentle until Kenma had no need to ask for more. Travelling hands wandered to Kuroo’s hair, pushing and feeling how soft his hair was. A tongue grazed between Kenma’s lips and he shivered, opening his lips so his tongue would meet Kuroo’s.

 

Kenma pressed his body tighter against the other and Kuroo sighed, grip getting stronger on Kenma’s hips. He sneaked a hand through Kenma’s black sweater, fingers gripping once he found the hem of the fabric, raising slightly to touch the burning skin underneath.

 

Out of dull anger, out of love and out of frustration, they were completely blind to the situation they were squeezing themselves into. 

 

Perhaps it had been the never ending tension between the two, that caused them to snap at each other like this. Perhaps it was a request from Kenma, a silent plea for Kuroo to stay. Perhaps it was Kuroo’s way to request for Kenma to understand him, a plea for support.

 

Kuroo withdrawn and Kenma blindly searched for his lips only to find nothing.

 

Kenma opened his eyes, hazed and even more glassy than before, but there were no tears this time.

 

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later, Kenma,” No ‘kitten’, just ‘Kenma’. Kenma noticed and processed how this wasn’t exactly a good sign before he answered.

 

“Unless you’re regretting it, I’m okay.” 

 

_ I’m okay with having sex with you. _

 

Kuroo came closer again, forehead resting against Kenma’s and he sighed for the nth time of the night, muscles relaxing. “I thought you were angry at me.”

 

“That’s besides the point.” It was Kenma’s turn to fall back from Kuroo’s touch and stare at him, cat eyes focusing on the eyes above his usual line of vision. “This is love we are talking about, now.”

 

Kuroo’s blush was like watercolor dissolving in water and Kenma couldn’t help but to assimilate, mirroring his response. That blush was followed by the brunette’s usual shit eating grin, the feeling of  _ thriving _ emanating from his pores.

 

“So, military stuff aside, you love me?”

 

Kenma’s simple and natural response was to toss him his disgusted and annoyed look. It definitely didn’t work as it should since Kuroo’s grin turned into a full on smile and  _ pride  _ was also sweeping from his pores.

 

“Tell me you love me and then I’ll kiss you.” Kuroo said, as if he was in position to demand anything.

 

“Don’t push your luck,” Kenma responded and this time Kuroo laughed. Carefree, gorgeous and annoying just like it should be.

 

Just like it should keep being.

 

Kuroo held Kenma’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pushing him through the apartment till a half closed door. Kuroo’s room.

 

Anxiety surged through Kenma’s throat, constricting and annoying but not enough to stop his steps towards the room he knew like the back of his hand. It had been so long since he felt anxious by entering Kuroo’s bedroom.

 

When Kuroo turned his head around in order to look at him, Kenma reminded himself of all those times Kuroo did that when they were playing volleyball. Kuroo used to look at him like that, caring coated with trust and attention. Kenma’s anxiety was lifted from his mind and the fog cleared.

 

When Kuroo sat down on his bed, pulling Kenma closer to him, the blonde remembered.

 

_ This is Kuroo. I love him and he loves me. _

 

_ Even if he considers going away, this is still him. _

 

Kenma got himself a place between Kuroo’s legs, comfortable and being reminded of the older’s presence by the way his thighs enclosured his waist and limited his movements.

 

The blonde felt the need to touch the other, the urge growing bigger and bigger until he gave in to what his cravings were. Hands reaching out, he tangled his fingers on Kuroo’s hair, pushing his bangs back to expose the brunette’s entire face.

 

Kuroo blinked up at him, eyes owlish and bright similar to a friend of theirs. Kenma could do nothing but kiss him, relishing in the fervor rising through the contact of wet lips on each other.

 

Kuroo would never get tired of that.

 

He placed both hands on Kenma’s waist, not even waiting for liberation before sneaking his fingers inside the sweater and sensing the tantalizing skin under his fingerprints again. Kenma shivered, too early but so sensitive to Kuroo’s touch that he was melting with a simple graze of fingers.

 

It didn’t took longer than one minute for Kuroo to silently request Kenma to take off his sweater.

 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Kenma mocked but still complied.

 

Kenma never felt shame from being seen undressed or showing off his upper body in furtive moments. He never worried about it too much because he always saw his body as  _ satisfactory  _ enough. But being  _ seen  _ like this, in this particular situation by Kuroo studying gaze was nothing more than disconcerting and exciting at once.

 

Kuroo drank to the sight. As soon as Kenma removed the sweater Kuroo’s hands were already on him. He caressed the skin that covered the subtle abs harnessed in years of practicing volleyball. No scars could be seen in such pure white skin and Kuroo wanted nothing but to leave his marks on it.

 

As eager as Kenma called him, Kuroo brought Kenma closer and his lips landed on the milky skin. The barely concealed hiss Kenma gave out was the best reward he could ever had. That skin, taste as tantalizing as it looked, received the first mark of the night when Kuroo sucked in a spot near his belly button.

 

The blonde mewled, back arching and Kuroo spread his fingers on Kenma’s back, keeping him stuck in his arched position. A push on Kuroo’s dark brown hair was the clear demand for more.

 

Kuroo licked the skin at his disposal, sucking hickeys through his stomach alternating it with kisses and small bites. Kenma’s legs buckled when Kuroo bit a spot close to his hip bone, build up tension thick in his bloodstream, flooding his brain.

 

“More,” Kenma vocalized, voice getting deeper with each ministration while his head lolled to the side.

 

A pinch on Kenma’s left nipple and a gasp seeped past his throat.

 

Kuroo smiled, the power rushing through his body straight to his growing erection.

 

Getting up from the bed, Kuroo kissed Kenma. Towering over the smaller body, his tongue was heavy and forcing past Kenma’s slightly parted lips. Kenma moaned into the kiss while Kuroo realized he could get addicted to the taste of  _ Kenma.  _ Without Kuroo even realizing, Kenma’s hands were already working to take off his shirt with an insistent tug on Kuroo’s ribs.

 

They parted and the brunette regarded Kenma with tenderness, caressing Kenma’s cheek before separating completely to pull off his shirt. Kenma didn’t waited for the piece of clothing to be completely removed to get his hands on Kuroo’s chest.

 

His thin fingers gripped the skin, pinching softly as if to get a feeling of Kuroo, to analyze and fragment in order to study.

 

Kuroo’s eyes met Kenma’s, a thousand of unspoken things and feelings rushed through them like a silent wave. For once, no words were necessary. Kuroo could see the urgency on Kenma’s eyes and Kenma could see the untold fondness devoured by love and devotion on Kuroo’s.

 

Their lips met again and it was electric. It was static, a living monster growing and consuming all in it’s reach. They lost themselves in the feelings of each other, lips and hands exploring and tasting any expanse of contact possible. Kuroo licked a long stripe of Kenma’s neck before biting his earlobe and the blonde moaned long and beautifully, palming Kuroo’s erection over the pants in revenge.

 

Pants were off faster than any of them could keep track.

 

When Kenma got back to his senses - as well as someone in his situation could -, he was laying on the bed, back against the mattress while Kuroo loomed on top of him. His hair was more disheveled than usual and his eyes were sharp like a predator’, pupils blown wide and absorbing every single one of Kenma’s movements and reactions.

 

“Kenma,” He whispered as if the other’s name was a secret meant for only the two of them, voice tone showing how much he wanted to ravish him. 

 

Kenma placed both hands near his head, palms up, and Kuroo took the offering. Kuroo entwined his fingers with Kenma’s own and pressed his enclosured his hands above his head. The clear restraint made the younger shiver, nearly moaning out of pleasure from the subtle limitation of his movements.

 

Kuroo smiled, reaching down and biting Kenma’s lower lip in a sweet tantalizing drag of teeth. “Never took you for the type that enjoys being restrained.” Kenma couldn’t hold back the sharp intake of breath this time.

 

Kuroo closed the distance between their hips for their erections to meet, hasty movements giving them the sweet friction they both needed.

 

The younger moaned this time, out of Kuroo’s mockery or out of the grinding motion, he had no clue. Eyes rolling inside his skull, he raised his hips in search of more. Kuroo brought his own hips down, erections meeting with an addictive pleasure.

 

Kuroo was the one to gasp this time, low and discreet on the foot of Kenma’s ear. Craving to touch, the blonde held Kuroo’s hands on a stranglehold level, trying to find a way to force his hands out of it at the same time.

 

They kissed again, mouths barely responsive to each other while they were too busy rocking against each other to mind it. Kuroo was burning with arousal, the solid intoxication making him nuzzle and nibble where Kenma’s neck met shoulder.

 

“Stop teasing me,” Kenma murmured, trying to hold back his wriggling.

 

Another bruise was created on his neck before Kuroo actually complied, getting up from Kenma and reaching for the bedside drawer.

 

The cold that came with Kuroo’s distance made him succumb to a more sober state. 

 

Kenma enjoyed the opportunity and removed his underwear, erection springing free on fresh air. It took all of Kenma’s willpower to not curl his hands around it and seek the release on his own. 

 

On the foot of the bed, Kuroo crawled towards him. Already completely naked as well, Kenma felt his mouth go dry at the sight. Kuroo’s dick was bigger and thicker than his own, the tip painted a pretty shade of red glowing with precum.

 

_ This is really happening,  _ Kenma became aware. He was really going to have sex with Kuroo. His feelings for the other weren’t unrequited. They had no reason to hold back from loving anymore but at a specifically bitter price to pay. Kuroo knew now that Kenma loved him and vice versa, but he was still unquestionably leaving.

 

Kuroo got closer and closer, honey coated eyes never leaving the other when he positioned himself between Kenma’s legs, wide open and waiting for the stretching.

 

The brunette’s lips made the entire path from his thighs to his chest, a simple grazing of teeth mixed with kisses and sucking motions.

 

His mouth landed on the other’s nipples, the suction and licking motions growing from a sweet distraction to something particularly arousing.

 

He noticed every single shifting of Kuroo’s body and hands, hyperaware and shot with a high dose of adrenaline, but he couldn’t completely brace himself to the sensation of Kuroo’s lube coated finger breaching past his entrance.

 

The intrusion felt odd, Kuroo’s finger thicker than his own ones at each passing joint. Kenma fought down the sentiment of  _ weirdness  _ in all of it, instead he focused on Kuroo’s lips on his chest and nipples.

 

Kuroo knew how Kenma felt. Of course he could tell, with the way the smaller tensed and seemed to hold his breath at the penetration. Even so he did his best to distract him until the tension sweeped from his muscles, arms and legs relaxing. His fingers curled around Kenma’s cock. The small and thick flesh was burning under his hold, Kuroo passed his thumb on the slit while he worked with jerking motions on both hands.

 

The stretching was easier after that.

 

A finger soon became two, the lips were relocated on Kenma’s neck and own mouth while the latter clawed at his back, short nails marking their wake. A curl of fingers inside him and Kenma snapped, back arching and an inhaled gasp leaving his body.

 

The smirk on Kuroo’s lips was nearly obscene, but not nearly as indecent as the sight Kenma painted. Cheeks and neck red with arousal, muscles working and dancing under his skin, yellowed eyes hiding behind closed eyelids as if the image was too much to take in. Perhaps it was, Kuroo couldn’t tell. He had always been too weak for pretty images to let this one go to waste.

 

He let go of Kenma’s dick at the same time he added a third finger. Kenma was gone after that. A symphony of moans, gaps, hissings and high pitched sounds was everything he could vocalize. His movements were reduced to random swirling patterns of hands across Kuroo’s back and chest, writhing and twitching whenever Kuroo hit that exact spot.

 

“Stop-” Kenma suddenly spoke between another one of his drawn out moans. “I want you.”

 

Eyes struggling to open, Kenma peered at him. Kuroo wanted to capture the way his half lidded eyes seemed to shine under the low lights coming from the street lamps. 

 

Kuroo pushed his fingers in one last time, angled perfectly to hit Kenma’s prostate dead on. He watched as Kenma’s eyes closed tight again, mouth opening in a silent moan.

 

Pulling his fingers out he realized how he had been neglecting his own throbbing erection. With one last, drawn out kiss Kuroo backed away - for hopefully the last time of the night - and reached for the bottle of lube. The amount of gel he placed on his hands was probably much more than necessary, but he had not the mind or the energy to mind it as soon as he touched himself. 

 

The blissl that simultaneously relaxed and tensed his body was way too good to be ignored this fast. He jerked himself slowly, letting out a moan of relief and pleasure.

 

But what a terrible person would he be if he had forgotten the prettiest boy that laid on his bed, spread wide for him to lavish with love and pleasure. 

 

Kuroo gripped Kenma’s tight, stretching his leg and placing it on top of his shoulder. Kenma grasped onto his waist, bracing himself and bringing him closer all at once. Kuroo couldn’t refrain from things now. He eased his way in.

 

Kenma seemed to go rigid all over again, eyes shooting open and taking in a deep inhale of breath. His fingers dug on Kuroo’s hair this time, pushing in a way that would be amazing if Kenma weren’t  _ this  _ tense.

 

The older didn’t thought twice before placing his lips on top of Kenma’s swollen ones and muttering what he held back for years.

 

“I love you.”

 

When he looked at Kenma again, his eyes were open and flooding. Kenma’s own mind broke all over again, the sobriety of what Kuroo had said hit him hard. 

 

Pleasure blending with joy, Kenma had never felt so happy in his life.

 

The tension was gone and replaced by warmth and tenderness that they could only seek on each other. 

 

“You do?” The younger asked, joking but bordering sceptic.

 

Kuroo didn’t refrain the smile that parted his lips, while closing the distance and kissing Kenma in a slow drag of tongues against each other. He sucked Kenma’s bottom lip before replying.

 

“I do.”

 

He didn’t even process Kenma’s movements. Before he realized Kenma had raised his hips and crossed one leg around Kuroo’s waist. He buried Kuroo’s cock inside himself. Taken completely by surprise, Kuroo weren’t able to hold back the loud moan he gave in response.

 

“Then show me.” The tantalizing deep voice sounded right next to his ear.

 

And again, all Kuroo could do was  _ obey. _

 

Thrusting slowly into Kenma and cataloguing every single reaction, Kuroo could die with how everything was  _ too much.  _ Too much of Kenma’s touch, his scent, his tightness, his voice, his love. Everything was overwhelming in the best of ways and now he knew why there were so many songs and poems speaking about  _ this _ .

 

Picking up a proper pace was harder than it should, his own mind fighting matter every single sound Kenma made and all he wanted was to steal more of those.

 

Mouths gaping on top of each other, their kisses were sloppy and nothing more than a way to pursuit any extra contact they could have. 

 

“Kenma.” Kuroo moaned, hissing between his teeth and Kenma shivered underneath him. 

 

He pounded inside Kenma, harder and harder while the blonde met Kuroo’s movements every single time.

 

The sound of skin slapping on each other soon flooded the room, deep and low moans shaking their vocal chords while hands purchased anything they could, pulling, gripping and marking. It was only a matter of time until they found the release they seeked for.

 

Kuroo reached Kenma’s cock and stroked, watching Kenma melt under the touch at the same time he seemed to tense like a bow ready to fire an arrow. 

 

“Kuro-” He cried, clawing at Kuroo’s back hard enough to leave marks for the next day.

 

Kenma came in the middle of a soundless scream, his body convulsed under Kuroo and fingers twitched Kuroo’s hair. Vision blacking out, Kenma’s hole clenched around Kuroo, muscles throbbing in waves that made Kuroo cry and tremble entirely. 

 

Kuroo drank to the sounds Kenma gave out, thrusting becoming even harder and faltering until he found his own release.

 

Completely blissed, Kuroo laid down on top of Kenma for a few moments. Breath heaving and limbs shaking entirely with exhaustion, they reached out for each other. Hands touching, tentatively as if they hadn’t just had sex a few minutes earlier, their fingers entwined slowly. Their eyes met, overflowing with a tenderness and love they never dared to show each other. Kenma smiled as prettily as a blooming flower, and soon it evolved to a sweet singing laugh.

 

The afterglow was like the morning sun rising on their skins, glowing and familiarly warm even though the situation was completely unfamiliar. It was somewhat natural for them, the way they seeked each other once it was over. Kuroo cradled Kenma on his arms, trying to avoid the sticky mess on their stomachs.

 

They had nasty matters to handle, but it was okay to neglect  said things for a bit longer. For now, both of them laid in bed and revelled in how sweet and gentle their newfound love was.


	2. Stage 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, i'm kinda sorry for the angst but i'm not actually sorry.
> 
> Warnings for minor (not so) character death.
> 
> This wasn't beta read, so i'm sorry in advance if there's any mistakes!
> 
> Commission work for the amazing and powerful [lilserket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilserket/pseuds/lilserket) (you guys should check their fics btw!!! They have tons and the AUs are so good).

“Come on Kuroo! Let me meet you dear Kenma-chan and I’ll let you meet Iwa-chan!” Oikawa trailed behind Kuroo, dodging from all the big wooden boxes filled with supplies spread around their camp.

 

“No way! You’re just gonna annoy him. Why do you use honorifics anyway? It’s not like any of us grew up  _ in _ Japan.” Kuroo asked as he kept walking around the camp, making way to the place where they signalized he could talk to Kenma through video chat.

 

Something about the reception being better in there, his superior had instructed him. 

 

“So, you think I’m annoying? I’m hurt, Kuroo-san!” Kuroo didn’t had to look at Oikawa to see the fake suffering plastered on his face like the terrible dramatic he was. 

 

“The honorifics are nice, I told you already that I do it out of habit! My family always used it between their friends and relatives, so it’s hard not to use it.”

 

It was hard to forget that Oikawa was a  _ nisei, _ opposite to him and Kenma that were from the  _ sansei  _ generation. 

 

Kuroo took a deep sigh and stopped on his tracks. If Oikawa met Kenma, chaos would ensue one way or another. Most surely Kenma would get stressed like a house cat going out in the street and that would ruin their chatting for the day.

 

But maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Kenma wouldn’t dislike it that much. Kuroo grew positive, thinking about how nice it would be if Kenma got fond of someone from his squad. Perhaps they could even meet personally one day. 

 

Plus, that would make Oikawa stop annoying him  _ and  _ he would meet the famous ‘Iwa-chan’.

 

“Fine, I’ll let you talk to him.”

  
  
  


It has been four months since Kuroo left him. Four months and he only saw Kuroo twice all this time. Not that he was impossibly far, he was still in the US. Usually at least. He was just impossibly busy.

 

Video chatting became a habit of theirs, somewhat a way to mimic the closeness they used to have. It was nothing like what they used to have.

 

In these two months, Kenma tried. He tried hard but it was undeniable how much he had withered. Sinking, slowly while missing his best friend, his lover. The promise ring on his left hand was a cold reminder of Kuroo’s absence. 

 

He held tight to anything he had to keep being upright. Hinata, Akaashi, Bokuto, Yaku and Lev were nice friends. The best he could even ask for, actually. But how do you handle to the phantom pain of  _ missing  _ someone? The aching, coming at him at the most random of times or sometimes not even leaving him alone entirely. The cold, because he got so used to sleeping on the same bed as Kuroo, sharing the blanket during their movie nights, drinking homemade hot chocolate. The loneliness, from not being able to be in reach with Kuroo at any time he wanted or needed.

 

Kenma knew he had to do those sacrifices in order for Kuroo to thrive, and he was thriving. Rising and getting more genuine every time they talked to each other, Kuroo loved being a soldier. Since his days of hard training till his travels in order to aid  in dangerous zones. He loved all of that and Kenma couldn’t find it in himself to pull Kuroo out.

 

He didn’t pretended to be okay, but he never told Kuroo how terribly he missed him.

  
  
  


His phone rang. Kenma glanced at the living room window and realized that he lost track of time entirely. He had been studying so much, trying to drill the programming language into his head, that he lost himself in it. He didn’t realized it until his phone rang, Kuroo’s ID flashing on the screen.

 

He fixed his hair but there was no saving now. He would face his boyfriend and whoever Kuroo wanted to introduce him wearing a black plain shirt and a cardigan Kuroo left with him, hair as neatly fixed as his fingers could pull out.

 

Thumb sliding through the screen to pick up the call, he was soon greeted by him. Kuroo, gorgeous Kuroo, whose skin was tanned from the sun with bright eyes complementing his smile. He looked so dazzling that Kenma’s heart ached all over again.

 

The grin only grew bigger once Kuroo received the image of Kenma. “Hey kitten!”

 

Kenma couldn’t help but smile too. How could he not, with the brunette clearly  _ this  _ happy for seeing him. “Hey, Kuro.”

 

The sound of static accompanied Kuroo’s voice. It was rare for them to get a connection this good, which was something surprising considering they were both still on the same country - this time. 

 

Kenma was ready to ask about his wellbeing when a voice screeched through the speakers, loud and whiny but clearly a male’s considering the rough edges. “You better keep your promises, Kuroo-san.”

 

“Kuroo-san?” Kenma played back, voice sultry, mocking. Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

Well this is going to be fun.

 

A mop of brown hair appeared on the screen, filling almost the entire space including Kuroo’s. Brown bright eyes, clearly asian ones (japanese, from the use of honorifics), lopsided smile that could only be described as mischievous. One of the prettiest faces Kenma has ever seen.

 

Kenma considered if he should hate the guy or love him for his amusing antics.

 

“Hello, ‘kitten’,” The man smiled so prettily he could rival with Akaashi. 

 

Even so, Kenma dreaded the nickname use.

 

“Well, hello stranger.” He replied and watched as Kuroo and the stranger elbowed each other, trying to get some space.

 

Kenma was sure he heard a “why don’t you go chat with your Iwa-chan?” in the middle of the exchange of jabs. Now entirely amused, he waited for the two to settle down.

 

The two painted an interesting picture. Tanned skin a stark contrast to the milk white of the stranger’s complexion, Kuroo looking clearly annoyed while the stranger seemed like he was having the time of his like. Kenma wondered if he looked like this at all times.

 

“Kenma, this is Oikawa. He’s from the same squad as me and a  _ nisei.”  _ Kenma’s eyes widened, caught by surprise. It wasn’t rare for japaneses to immigrate to US, but it happened to be a quite pleasant coincidence that him and Kuroo ended up together.

 

“Hello,” He mustered to speak, too distracted by the assault on his senses.

 

“It’s lovely to finally meet Kuroo-san’s kitten!” Kenma groaned loudly and Kuroo sank his face on his hands, mumbling something unintelligible.

 

Kenma spend fifteen minutes dizzying minutes being shot him words and questions, going from what his major was until his setting abilities. Oikawa was a setter as well and Kenma could not be more dumbfounded because of all the coincidences. Him and Kenma managed to have a nice chat once they were past the initial shock and even mocked Kuroo for his weird eating habits and snoring while sleeping.

 

When Kuroo told him how much Oikawa looked forward to meet him in person, Kenma couldn’t find it in himself to distaste the idea. He actually looked forward to it.

  
  
  


News said it was a second edition of the Pearl Harbor attack.

 

They saw it coming but they barely had any reaction time. They couldn’t pull everyone out because there were too many people there. That's what the news have said, at least. 

 

Kenma was at his parents’ home, in the middle of a family dinner, when he heard. He barely remember what happened after that. His vision blacked out, someone was screaming while his heart and guts were being twisted inside of him. Kenma later learned that he was the one screaming. 

 

He remembers the insistence of his mother and father, telling him to stay with them for the night, to not go home and stay alone, agonizing for news. He refused, completely out of his own body while he drove past the streets he and Kuroo grew up in. 

 

He considered that he shouldn't have drove that night when he narrowly avoided being in a car crash, hitting the break harder than he ever thought possible when a car crossed in front of him at top speed. 

 

Kenma had just passed the threshold when the wave of fear and panic hit him. The sobs soon followed and he kneeled on the ground with tears washing his face, feeling a phantom pain all over his body. 

 

His mind wasn't even processing the concept, instead wailing a broken repetition of “ _ Kuroo can't be _ -”. 

 

He couldn't bring himself to complete the thought. 

 

Kenma could feel his entire being cracking like porcelain, his resolve to live dissolving with the possible outcome of the attack on California’s military base. 

 

He fell asleep to the sound and lighting of the TV news, hoping for good news but still not having a single hopeful bone inside his body. 

  
  
  


Kuroo screamed, watching the bombs fall one after the other on the training base he grew to call his temporary home. 

 

“Oikawa!” The shout reverberated through the now open field, trying his best to avoid the ever falling bombs and grenades being tossed from the sky. 

 

Kuroo barely had time to process when the attack started. One second he was laying down on the grass, reading a book next to one of the lamp posts. The next second he could hear the buzz of airplanes, a whole hive of steel flying machines charging towards the base. 

 

One or two minutes later, the bombing started.

 

He could barely see anything in front of them, his entire vision being clouded by several clouds smoke coming from debris in fire. His lungs burned and he was running as fast as he could to somehow find Oikawa, all the smoke was curling inside his chest in tendrils. But he didn't cared as long as he found Oikawa. 

 

Trying to avoid debris, dead bodies, injured people, the screams of everyone around him, he searched.

 

And he found him. 

 

Legs pressed under a crumbled wall, Oikawa was completely stuck. His mouth was dripping blood as if his blood had boiled and decided to go past the edge. There was a puddle of the red liquid around the place his legs were that kept increasing. Someone found him earlier than Kuroo and they were trying to lift the debris to free him.

 

“Oikawa!” Kuroo cried, making his way towards his closest friend. His knees hit the ground and the smaller bits of concrete dug into the skin of his legs. 

 

Oikawa looked at him, face dirty and eyes half lidded. His movements were so slow, far from the typical behavior that Kuroo learned to identify as  _ his.  _ There was a clear trail on his face. Oikawa had been crying, but the tears stopped flowing once his eyes found Kuroo.

 

“Hey Kuroo-san.” His voice missed the usual chirping but he still fought hard to sound as bubbly as he could. “Have you seen that I'm stuck?”

 

Kuroo couldn't avoid passing a hand by his hair, fixing the rebel strands to something more manageable. His confusion showed up when his vision got distorted. 

 

_ Oh, I'm crying.  _

 

“I saw that. You're a real idiot for that.”

 

Kuroo watched Oikawa attempt to laugh, but everything that left his mouth was blood. He shut his eyes tight for he couldn't bare seeing Oikawa like this. The lump on his throat got bigger until a sob broke free. 

 

“Hey, Kuroo-san.” Oikawa whispered. It looked like all the strength he had was being directed to the task of speaking to Kuroo. “I would have loved to meet your kitten in person.”

 

Kuroo smiled between the tears, the wrecking pain taking over his entire body. “He will love to meet you.”

 

It was Oikawa’s turn to smile. Sad and in pain, his smile was dyed red with blood. 

 

“Make sure to tell him you love him. I wish I could tell Iwa-chan before I go.”

 

Oikawa closed his eyes, face adopting a peaceful feature while his smile softened. The pain seemed to have gone from his body. He took one last breath and his smile never faltered. 

 

“He's gonna hate me for that.”

  
  
  


The days passed by in a blur. No one talked to him about it, not directly anyways. But every time Kenma left the house, everything felt like too much. Too many stimulus around him, too many people and noises making him feel overwhelmed.

 

His entire life felt like an endless rain, darkened skies constricting him from feeling remotely  _ alive. _

 

Kenma went out of his house four times before giving up completely.

 

Two weeks without any news from the army about Kuroo’s whereabouts. Kuroo’s family never notified him of anything either.

 

The silence was deafening.

 

And even more so, maddening.

 

Kenma could feel the strings that kept his mind whole, break one by one. All the moments circling about the same topic over and over again, be it on the news or inside his own head, wrecked him.

 

When two weeks evolved to three, Kenma snapped.

 

He was fine, Kenma had all things under control until the news started. He planned on changing the channel before the opening even happened, but he lost the remote in the middle of the mess his house had become.

 

The voice of the female news reporter flooded his ears.

 

“The number of dead soldiers from the attack on the national’s training center in California, continues to rise. Seven hundred soldiers are reportedly dead, two thousand remain heavily injured and being treated on the hospital. Reports say that,” Kenma tuned out completely.

 

The bees inside his mind were buzzing so loudly he couldn’t hear anything anymore. Kenma pressed the remote control on his hand until his knuckles turned white, breath heaving. His heart grew more frantic and erratic, panic, loneliness, anxiety, sadness and anger permeated his entire body, taking control of everything in a greedily dark touch. 

 

_ Kuroo had no right to do this to me. _

 

The remote flew across the room, anger growing stronger at the minute. The emotions filled his own core to the brim and spilled out as a black ink, tainting everything under its touch.

 

Kenma destroyed everything he could lay his hands on. 

 

Hands grabbing everything that  _ could _ be destroyed, he threw all sorts of objects. The sounds of them breaking wasn’t a comfort, it was far from it. It was a screeching, loud scream of glass turning into shards and the raw sounds of plastic being torn. It was his own scream coming out from something else’s dismay.

 

He cried, sobs convulsed his lungs and he never wished his own death as harder as he did that moment.

 

_ At least if he was dead he would get to see Kuroo. _

 

His breathing became more erratic, as if the tart of terrible emotions was now proceeding to occupy his lungs. It didn’t took long until there was nothing else to destroy.

 

Anger melted into burn liquid pain and sadness as he fell down on the floor on a sitting position, grabbing his knees and bringing his legs closer to his chest.

 

He retracted entirely while he hugged his own legs, tears flowing from an aching heart.

 

“You’re not allowed to leave me like this.” It was all he could whisper in the midst of agony.

  
  
  


Someone must have called his parents that day, because an hour later they were at his doorstep hitting insistently on the door. Two days passed and he was living with them again.

 

The loneliness and grief became a bit more bearable, a bit more manageable.

 

Two months since the attack and still no news from Kuroo. Kenma found a way to bring himself back by tying himself to the people around him. His friends became his support even though that some days, looking at some of them was a painful reminder of the one who was missing.

 

But hope was a treacherous thing, really. He always hoped for Kuroo to be back and it backfired every week passed without any news. Every time, at least once a week he was forced to go to bed after a heavy dose of anti anxiolytic meds. It knocked him down hard, and he always woke up in the late afternoon of the next day without any sense of orientation. 

 

Three months since the attack and Kenma’s phone rang.

 

On the caller ID was written “Kuro”. 

 

It was a ghost. There was no other possibility than that. Mind racing at the same speed as his heartbeats, his hand was shaking when he reached for the phone. If he didn’t picked up, what were the odds of “Kuroo” calling him again? If he didn’t picked up what were the odds of him never having the chance of listening to Kuroo’s voice for one more time?

 

Either way, he couldn’t risk. There was no sweet option, no way out of this without getting hurt in any form.

 

Because hope was as good as any gun or blade.

 

Thumb sliding through the screen, Kenma put the phone on his ear. He could hear his own blood raging on his head and how his heart seemed to beat even harder and faster each second passed.

 

“Kenma?”

 

The gasp that left his mouth couldn’t even be contained. The dam he spent all this time building and keeping in check was completely wrecked with the pronounce of two sentences in that deep, melodic voice. 

 

Kenma became raw emotions. Fear, anxiety, longing, hurt, love.

 

He loved that voice and it’s owner so much.

 

Maybe a little bit of hope wouldn’t be all this bad.

 

Maybe Kenma could begin to see the light again.

 

“Kuro?” His voice was nothing above a whisper, barely audible but he knew Kuroo would have listened.

 

And then Kuroo chuckled. That hideous, infamous laugh of his.

 

Kenma started crying. The sobs that convulsed his lungs were far from pretty, the gasps for air even worse. But Kenma paid no mind. How could he?

 

His Kuroo was alive.

 

“Kenma, kitten.” Kenma heard Kuroo sniff. He had been silently crying all this time trying not to disturb Kenma further.

 

Kenma’s mind was on overdrive. After all the time, after all the pain, his Kuroo was alive and  _ there. _

 

His heart sang the prettiest melody of love and it poured out of him in the shape of tears.

 

_ Kuroo is alive. _

 

_ He didn’t left me. _

 

Kenma shook, body quivering under the love he felt. Quivering under the longing that haunted him for all this long.

 

There was only one right thing to tell, one that would convey to every single thing he felt at the moment and all the moments before.

 

“Kuroo, I love you.”

  
  
  


“Don’t worry, his flight is already landing.”

 

The nervous energy - a bubbly, good one - was clearly apparently but Kenma couldn’t mind any less. The happiness was flowing from him in waves and that’s all he cared about. 

 

He wanted to be happy now.

 

He would protect this glee forever.

 

“But it’s taking so long.” He side eyed his mother and Kuroo’s family beside him.

 

Kuroo’s mother and father suffered a lot with the supposed lost of their son, but differently from Kenma, they had faith. They steeled themselves into that faith and kept walking straight despite their biggest fears. Very contrary to what happened to Kenma and he felt a bit jealous for too long, betrayed even, that the family didn’t broke down under the overwhelming weight..

 

“Everything is okay.” Kuroo’s mom told him, a gorgeous smile painted on her lips and glittery eyes.

 

Yes, everything's okay.

 

The reason for which Kuroo vanished was because the superiors decided to land a strike on those who attacked them, before they could “get their shit together” (Kuroo said it himself). Kuroo decided to go along and no one bothered to let his family know that he had survived. But now his mission was done, he had played his part well and the news about the attack on Belarus’ secondary main base, soon spread.

 

He had been dismissed with honors and now was coming home.

 

_ Almost home. _

 

When people started to leave through the gate, his restlessness turned into a pacing. He walked some steps and back, keeping eye on every single person that went past the big glass doors. His anxiety grew bigger at every face he identified as ‘not Kuroo’. Kenma would pass out at this rate.

 

Kuroo appeared, steps frantic as his eyes scanned every single person in the room. Kenma froze.

 

Their eyes met and Kenma could swear that his heart was going to burst. 

 

Next thing he knew, he was running. Kenma runned, the sound of his steps resonating on the airport and getting the attention of everyone around them.

 

They clashed, two brute forces meeting each other in a way that could only be called heaven’s providence. Kuroo hugged Kenma tightly, their breaths frantic and stolen away by the burst of emotions.

 

Kuroo was still as  _ Kuroo  _ as Kenma recalled. His warmth was nothing but his own and Kenma felt himself relax into the tight hold. It had been quite some time since Kenma actually relaxed.

 

A kiss was deposited on the top of Kenma’s head, but none of them could bring themselves to break apart. Instead, Kenma buried his face on Kuroo’s chest and took a deep breath, revelling in the moment. Kuroo was more solid than before, but it was still him.

 

_ His Kuroo was finally home. _

 

Only some moments later they were able to separate from each other. Still in each other’s arms, Kenma looked up. His arms were wound tight on Kuroo’s waist even though he had already released a bit of his strength.

 

Kuroo’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his own soul overflowing with joy.

 

Not a word was traded before their lips seeked each other.

 

A hesitant touch as if they were afraid of this moment breaking in case they did anything more than that. Once they deemed it as something real and tangible enough, only then they kissed deeper.

 

Kuroo’s hand slid through Kenma’s hair, a meaningful caress between two yearning lovers.

 

Kenma smiled in the middle of the kiss, euphoric as if he had just reborn.

 

Perhaps he had.

 

“Welcome home, Kuro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a writer who feeds on kudos and comments, so feel free to leave me any of those!!! I'll reply to all the comments and treasure the kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions a lot too!
> 
> Talk to me and feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dazaionice).
> 
> If you're interested in information about how my commissions work, check my twitter pinned.
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://dazaionthinice.tumblr.com) as well!!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a writer who feeds on kudos and comments, so feel free to leave me any of those!!! I'll reply to all the comments and treasure the kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions a lot too!
> 
> Talk to me and feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dazaionice) for prompts, snippets, art and the occasional shitposting. If you're interested in information about how my commissions work, check my twitter pinned <3


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